The Secret of Life
by Lynn Harp
Summary: Just a couple of guys sitting around drinking.


Title: The Secret of Life

Author: Lynn Harp

Type: Fanfiction / Supernatural

Genre: General / One - Shot

Word Count: 790

Rating: PG – 13 (for language)

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

Summary: Just a couple of guys sitting around drinking.

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On the corner of fourth and main sat the Starlight Bar. Its green neon sign flashed bright in the distance. It was a late Sunday evening, and the bar was mostly empty. The only customers, a couple of guys, were just sitting around drinking and talking. The bartender sat behind the bar reading the paper.

"You know, I've been thinking," one of the guys begins.

"Yeah," the other one replies. "That won't get you too far."

"Come off it," the first guy shoots back in mock anger.

"Well this is your life, and welcome to it," the second guy continues, as he gestured around the bar. "It ain't nothing but working, drinking, and dreams. There's nothing you can do about it."

"What about that commercial."

"Which one would that be?"

"You know, the one that says 'Just Do It'," he answers.

"Hell if I know what that means," the other says.

"Tell me then all knowing one, what is the secret to life."

"The secret of life," the guy asks. "How did we reach this?"

"Like I said before, I've been thinking. What if there's more."

"You mean more then work and drinking. Nah there isn't anything more."

"What if there is," he questions, with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Ok then, the secret of life is a good cup of coffee."

"Coffee," he says nearly choking on his beer. "Why coffee?"

"It takes good coffee to get you going in the morning."

"No I don't think that's the secret," he laughs. "The secret is keeping your eye on the ball. You have to be focused, and keep your mind straight."

"True," his friend responds. "No, the secret of life is a beautiful woman."

"Yeah," he answers. "Like Marilyn Monroe," he continues getting a big grin on his face. "All curves."

"You and me are nothing but zeros," is his reply. "Just a couple of down and outs. Look at us the only two in here drinking. Dreading going home, and then you got your movie stars and football heroes."

"I know, what the hell do they have to be unhappy about."

The two sat there in silence for several seconds, before the first one turns to the bartender. "Sam, what do you think? What's the key that unlocks that door?"

Sam puts down his paper, and stands. Sam doesn't say anything, just wipes down the bar, and pours them a couple more. Sitting back down, he returns to his paper.

"The secret of life," the second man begins. "Is Sam's martinis."

"Here, here!" They raise their glasses to Sam. "The secret of life is Marilyn's eyes."

"Would you get your mind out of the gutter," his friend says smacking him across the back of his head.

"Sorry," he answers sheepishly.

"Monday night football," his friend continues.

"The rolling stones."

"Mom's apple pie." They give each other knowing looks.

Sam looks up from the Sunday paper, and says "Boys you're on the wrong track." Sam's stare is intense, his face is scared from some tragedy, and his eyes hold much wisdom. "The secret of life is there ain't no secret," Sam continues. "And you don't get your money back." Sam picks the bills of the counter, and waves it in front of them.

Sam continues, "The secret of life. It's getting up early, and then staying up late. It's trying to hurry, but not waiting. No, never waiting. You wait, and life passes by you to fast." Sam turns from the register, and stares at them for a few seconds. "The secret of life. It's good coffee, keeping your eye on the ball, and finding the right women. The secret of life, well, there really ain't no secret. The secret of life is nothing at all."

Both guys sit quietly finishing their beers. Without a word both give a nod towards Sam, and leave. Both guys thinking hard on what Sam just told them.

Sam cleans the beer mugs, and goes back to wiping off the bar. Several minutes later someone else enters the bar.

"Sam," Dean says, eyeing his brother. "I was worried. You didn't come home at your usual time, and didn't call." Dean looks at Sam accusingly.

"Sorry," Sam replies, discarding his towel. "I had two late customers. Didn't think to call." He hands his brother a beer as he sits down at the bar.

"Thanks," he says, then continues. "Next time call."

"I will," Sam answers as he grabs himself a beer.

The two sit in comfortable silence for several minutes, just enjoying the company of the other.

"You know Sam, I've been thinking," Dean finally says breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Sam chuckles, taking another sip from his beer. "That won't get you too far."

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End file.
